


It's Never Over

by Super_Secret_Slash_Agent



Category: Teen Wolf (TV), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe, Everyone Is Alive, Gen, Gladers are super smart, I Don't Even Know, Newt didn't have the Flare, Post-Season/Series 02, Thomas is Stiles, because I say so, this has gotten away from me a bit
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-02-25 02:23:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2605103
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Super_Secret_Slash_Agent/pseuds/Super_Secret_Slash_Agent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thomas and the Gladers have finally escaped WICKED, only to find out it was all a lie. Everything. There was no solar event, no Flare, and Thomas isn't even Thomas. He is Stiles.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I own neither Teen Wolf nor Maze Runner.
> 
> Also thanks to Eclipse Wing who totally helped me out. Who you can find at http://archiveofourown.org/users/EclipseWing/pseuds/EclipseWing

Thomas stood there, staring at the house, trying to make himself walk up to the door and just knock. He'd been there when Minho and Newt had done it, standing in the background with a soft smile as his best friends were hugged within an inch of their lives by eager family members. He knew this would be a good thing, but why couldn't he make himself do it? It wasn't until a brown haired teen almost knocked him over that he realized he had been standing there long enough for it to get dark. Immediately the newcomer rushed to apologize. The innocent look on the kids face reminded him of Chuck.

"Dude, I wasn't even paying attention. I'm usually much more coordinated than that, and more observant. I was kind of distracted by my girlfriend’s text. I'm so sorry. I can't believe I didn't notice you though, I totally should have." Thomas smiled at the nervous babble and couldn't help but wonder why the kid seemed so surprised to not have noticed him.

Thomas held out a hand to stop the other boy, "It's alright, I should have been paying better attention to where I was standing."

The boy tilted his head and Thomas couldn't help but think of a puppy, "Why are you standing out here any ways."

"I'm trying to decide whether I should just knock on the door or not." Thomas indicated the house across the street with a wave of his hand.

The kid looked more confused, his nose scrunching up in concentration, "What do you want with the Sheriff's house?"

"To talk to him actually, there are some things I need to tell him." Thomas ran a hand through his hair, "I thought it would be easy just to walk up and do it, apparently not. I feel like such a shank."

The puppy dog kid smiled, "While I have no idea what that means, I think I can help you out." In the next moment, the teen grabbed Thomas by the arm and dragged him across the road. The kid was pretty lucky Thomas didn't consider him a threat, that move wouldn't have ended well otherwise, even if the guy was surprisingly strong. He pulled Thomas right up to the door, knocked loudly and gave a bright smile before turning around and heading away. Thomas couldn't help but shake his head, this guy was one of a kind.

Before he could think any further on the subject though, the door swung open to reveal the Sheriff, still in his uniform and probably wondering who in the world was knocking on his door this late. Thomas took a moment to take him in, he had seen pictures when he had searched, but all his memories from before the Maze were gone and he didn't particularly want most of them back. The Sheriff, John Stilinski was a bit taller than him, in his forties and in good physical shape. That was probably due to his occupation. There were tired lines on his face, and Thomas almost wished he could remember what that face looked like before those got there. The older man looked confused though, unsure as to why there was a teenage boy standing on his porch. Thomas cleared his throat, "Um hi... I think, I think you're my dad."

The Sheriff's eyes widened and Thomas wondered why he couldn't have managed to come up with something better. "What!?!"

Thomas cringed, "I think this conversation is better had sitting down."

Distantly, the Sheriff nodded and ushered Thomas inside. The older man leads him to the living room, a soft looking couch taking up the center of the room across from a large TV screen. In the corner is a desk piled high with case files and a laptop perched precariously on top. The Sheriff, John, Thomas isn't quite sure what to call him, motions for him to sit on the couch. Thomas has to force himself to keep in the moan of pleasure as he sinks into the plush couch, there was definitely nothing like this at WICKED. He must not keep the look of his face though because the Sheriff smiles, "It's a pretty comfortable couch isn't it?" All Thomas can do is nod. The Sheriff however, is much more eloquent. "Listen kid, my son has been missing since he was three years old. I've hoped for so long that he's alive, no matter how impossible it probably is. So don't come here and say you're my son and give me that hope and then tear it away. I need to know why you think you are my son."

"It's what my file said." The Sheriff obviously wasn't thinking that was going to be his answer. "The place I was, when we got out we managed to get copies of our files. Mine had parents listed as John and Claudia Stilinski, uncooperative participants."

"There is a lot about what you just said that I want to talk about later, but for now I just want to hug the daylights out of you." Seconds later, Thomas is wrapped up in the warmest hug he had ever imagined. Thomas hugs back just as hard, can feel the tears welling in his eyes and hastily blinks them away. After what feels like an eternity, the Sheriff pulls away, "I know you are my son, my Stiles. I can feel it. But I hope you understand I need to be sure."

Thomas nods, "Whatever you need to do." He pauses a moment, "Is that my name?" The second question is soft and hesitant and oh so hopeful.

The Sheriff makes a sound of distress, "Stiles? Um... it's a nickname. You couldn't say your name when you were little," He lets out a sad laugh, "Hell I couldn't say it. So you decided to name yourself Stiles. Do... do you not know what your name is?"

Thomas shrugs in return, "I know what they named me, I wasn't sure it was me though. Guess I was right."

"So," The older man's voice is hesitant, "What did they call you?"

"Thomas."

The Sheriff lets out a laugh, "Certainly easier than your real name."

Thomas purses his lips before asking, "What is my real name?"

"I'll have to write it down for you later." The Sheriff smiles, "I still don't know how to say it."

~*~*~* TW * MR *~*~*~

The Sheriff was clearly off when Thomas had showed up at the door, but it seems none of the deputies are surprised to see him in and wearing his uniform. Thomas wonders how the man has coped with the loss of his son and then his wife. He hopes that maybe this really is his dad and that he can help. They weave through the quiet station, making their way to a back hallway and the last door on the hall. Thomas notices the door is marked Lab before the Sheriff pushes it open. The room is small, but practically overrun by bulky oversized machines. They are marked with acronyms and it doesn't take long for Thomas to figure out what they all do. It's actually quite impressive for a small Sheriff's station. Apparently, the Sheriff knows what he is thinking, "It's not usual for a small department like this to have a Lab at all, much less one this extensive, but we had some problems recently and received this as a donation from some of the richer citizens of Beacon Hills."

The sound apparently grabs the attention of the lone lab tech, a young deputy whose name tag reads Parrish. The young man smiles, "Sheriff, what can I do for you?"

"I'd like for you to run a paternity test for me."

Parrish raises an eyebrow and shoots Thomas a look, "We don't usually do paternity tests for teen pregnancy."

The Sheriff shakes his head, "I'm not asking you to figure out if he's the father, I'm asking you to figure out if I am." Parrish's eyes widen comically, jumping back and forth between Thomas and the Sheriff, it seems the Sheriff's missing kid wasn't much of a secret, then again small towns don't seem that different from the Glade in a social aspect, there probably aren't a lot of big secrets, at least not ones that stay secret very long. The Sheriff clears his throat, "And I'd appreciate if you kept this to yourself until the results come out."

The deputy nods, "I just finished running a case, I can do it now and the results should be ready in a few hours, that way you don't have to wait till the next deputy comes in for a shift in here." The Sheriff nods and Parrish takes a few minutes to take blood samples and put them in the machine. "It won't be a full DNA analysis but it should be enough to determine paternity. I'll txt the results to your phone as soon as they come through Sheriff."

~*~*~* TW * MR *~*~*~

Apparently, Beacon Hills has a diner that's open 24/7. They've been here twenty minutes and Thomas has no idea how to say he doesn't know what anything on the menu is. After carefully reading the descriptions, he ends up copying his dad's order. While they wait for their food, Thomas decides this is a good time as any to ask, "So, what do I do?" The Sheriff looks confused so Thomas continues, maybe he didn't word the question right. "To earn my keep. Do you have a garden to tend or any animals to watch? Do I have to build anything for you? I can cook."

Almost immediately the Sheriff is shaking his head, "When Parrish confirms what I think, you won't have to do anything. You get to be a teenager, that's all. You don't have to worry about any of that. I will take care of everything."

Thomas isn't sure he understands, "How do I do that?"

"Be a teenager?" Thomas nods at the question. The Sheriff sighs, "You go to school, make friends, join a sports team, sleep in on the weekends and go to parties."

That first one has Thomas interested, "School?"

The Sheriff nods, "Yeah, Scho... have you never been to school before?"

Thomas shakes his head, "Not really, we learned things but that was part of the tests. We didn't really learn what that was until we got out. I thought I might be too old."

"You're sixteen." The Sheriff seems shocked he didn't know that.

Thomas' eyes widen, guess Chuck had been right about that one, "Really?" The Sheriff isn't sure what to do with the honest question in that one word. He feels kind of bad that he's relieved that their food arrives right then. Until Thomas is staring at the hamburger as if he doesn't know what to do with it... he probably doesn't.

The Sheriff grabs his own burger, "Eat it like this." He takes a bite and watches as Thomas mirrors the action.

Thomas almost can't believe the flavor of what he is eating, he's never had anything like it before. The food in the Glade had been bland and usually tough, it hadn't been much different after that either. But this, it was juicy and tender, the taste of it overwhelming his taste buds. The bread was warm and soft with just a bit of crunch, like it had been fresh baked and held over the fire for a few seconds to give it a crisp, golden brown crust. He kind of wanted to eat this every day for the rest of his life. The curly things on the plate called fries were even better. Damn these shanks were lucky if they got to eat like this all the time. 

They were just finishing up at the diner when the Sheriff's phone buzzed. The older man read the message as they walked to the car, his mouth growing into a bigger smile as he read. He pulled Thomas in for a crushing hug, "It's a familial match, I knew you were my Stiles." Thomas smiled, he thinks he kind of likes that name.

~*~*~* TW * MR *~*~*~

It doesn't take long to get Thomas enrolled at school. Since he had never been to school before, they had him take a placement test. Thomas is pretty sure they hadn't been expect him to correct the test. The woman who gave him the test wanted to graduate him right then, but both the Sheriff and Thomas insisted on him being placed in high school, in the grade level he would have been in anyways. She had mumbled about someone named Lydia not being happy with the competition for Valedictorian but she placed him as a sophomore taking all advanced classes entering over halfway into the year.

So that's how Thomas found himself in homeroom next to the boy who had marched him up to the Sheriff's door that night. Thomas smiled when the boys eyes lit up with recognition, "You know I never got your name. I wanted to thank you for helping me out."

The boy smiled, "It was no problem, and my name is Scott McCall. I never asked for yours either."

Thomas smiled back, "Stiles Stilinski." The room froze, or well the people did, before turning to stare at him. Thomas really didn't think he had been that loud.

A red haired girl frowned, "Stiles Stilinski has been missing for almost thirteen years. Everyone in this town knows that story."

"Well it seems they haven't heard the part where I came back." The girl looks skeptical but before she can say anything, the teacher walks in and takes attendance. When his name comes up, he calls out here just like everyone else had and watches as redhead looks almost surprised that he had been telling the truth. Apparently some people don't like to be out of the loop on important town gossip. Almost immediately, the whispers start. A few people seem to be furiously typing on their phones. Thomas takes a moment to wonder if all high schools are like this, if Newt or Minho or even Gally have to deal with this. He's pretty sure he'd rather face another Griever than deal with the looks these people give him for the rest of his life.

Scott reaches forward and places a hand on Thomas' shoulder, not quite noticing how the other boy tenses, "Sit with me at lunch, otherwise you will totally get swarmed. Not a lot of interesting things happen in this town." Thomas isn't quite sure why that seems like a lie.

He nods anyways, accepting the kind offer. Scott was nice to him the other day, and Thomas kind of likes the guy. The teacher manages to reign the class in and they get on with the class. Thomas knows most of this, knows it from the endless tests that WICKED gave him and never took away even when they took everything else. So he ignores it, lets his mind wander to his dad, his friends. He misses them, hopes his dad will let them visit. He has their phone numbers, something they had insisted upon when they parted ways. As soon as he got a phone of his own he would be able to talk to them.

Class ended pretty quickly. So did the next one. The redhead seemed to be in most of his classes, he's pretty sure her name is Lydia. Despite her initial reaction, she's actually been helpful, glaring at kids who stare at him too long or too openly.

Lunch with Scott is almost a welcome break after all the whispering surrounding him. Scott's table is actually pretty full but Scott directs him into an empty seat between a kid named Isaac and Scott himself. Scott's other side is occupied by a girl he saw in his history class, Allison. Scott's girlfriend apparently. Across the table from them is a large black boy named Boyd who reminds him almost painfully of Alby, a blonde named Erica who is unashamedly draping herself over Boyd, Jackson, who is very much a shuck faced shank, and Lydia. Thomas mostly listens to their conversation and smiles gratefully when Scott redirects questions aimed at him. Erica tries to bulldoze past it but Boyd reels her in, Jackson seems to be the only one incapable of understanding he doesn't want to talk about it.

"So where were you for thirteen years?" Yeah, Jackson really doesn't understand. Thomas looks up from his tray of cafeteria food and glares at the boy who quickly looks away. The others seem surprised and impressed by the action. Allison just laughs and throws a fry at Jackson's face, Thomas thinks Scott got lucky on that one.

He finishes eating pretty quickly, the food was pretty good despite all the grumbling he can hear about it. Scott looks at him surprised though, "Dude, you just ate cafeteria mac and cheese, are you nuts?"

Thomas' eyebrows furrow, "What's wrong with it?"

Isaac is the one who splutters in response, "What's wro... did you NOT notice it tasted like cardboard covered in almost expired cheese imitation?"

Thomas shrugged, "I've had worse."

The curly haired teen cringes, "I can't imagine what would be worse. I can't imagine how you even just ate that."

"You eat what you can when you can, you never know what might happen or when you get to eat next." The answer seems like common sense to Thomas, judging by the horrified looks on the faces surrounding him, that's not always the case.

~*~*~* TW * MR *~*~*~

It didn't take very long being friends with Scott to realize most of the group were werewolves. Less than a week actually. Granted Thomas had to do some extensive research, but it wasn't hard to figure out. He was pretty sure Scott, Jackson, Isaac, Erica and Boyd were all werewolves. Allison was human, but judging by the picture of her on Scott's phone holding a bow, she was by no means defenseless. Lydia was something else, he wasn't quite sure yet what that was though. He's also pretty sure that Derek and Peter, the guys that Isaac stays with, are werewolves too. Scott's mom knows, and Allison's dad definitely knows. Actually, he's kind of surprised the entire town doesn't know. It's kind of funny how they think he doesn't know. He can hear them when they growl at each other, see when they scent mark or their eyes flash. They are also impossibly strong for a group of teens who haven't spent their lives like he did. And they always seem to overhear things they couldn't possibly hear, like conversations on the other side of the parking lot. That one has come in handy though, they have a habit of letting him know when people are talking about him. Thomas kind of enjoys glaring at them and watching them squirm, he doesn't like people wondering what happened to him.

That had just happened actually before the Sheriff came to pick him up. His dad took one look at the scowl on his face and handed him a cell phone. Thomas looks down at it in surprise, he hadn't gotten around to asking about one yet. The Sheriff smiles, "I figured that you might want one to talk with your friends." Thomas smiles and rushes to enter Newt and Minho's numbers, he's had them memorized for weeks. He sends off a quick text letting them know it's him, the replies come in seconds. Pretty soon, he is wrapped up in finding out how they have been doing, letting them know how things are going here. He tells them his new friends are werewolves and smiles when they believe him completely. Newt just kind of sighs and says 'only you Thomas'. They end up rehashing all the times Thomas got them into ridiculous situations.

Turns out that wasn't such a great idea. Thomas has spent so much time avoiding it, what happened. Ignoring questions from his dad and now his friends. Talking it out with Newt brings up a lot of old, unpleasant memories. Thomas finds it hard to sleep that night, tossing and turning as Cranks and Grievers run rampant across his mind. He watched Alby and Chuck die, thinks about how they thought Newt had the Flare, how Newt wanted Thomas to kill him, how he almost did. Thomas isn't surprised to wake up screaming. What's new is his dad holding him tightly, trying to bring him out of it.

Through the haze of breathlessness, he hears the older man calling out, "Stiles, it's alright. You're safe Stiles... Thomas!"

That brings him out, no one has called him that name since WICKED, not really. Newt and Minho have only done it through text, everyone else thinks he's Stiles. Thomas snaps his head up to look at his dad, his breathing evening out. The Sheriff's face is a mixture of sadness, confusion and pain. It's only then that Thomas realizes he has a very tight and punishing grip on the man's wrist. He winces and let’s go, "Sorry."

The Sheriff shakes his head, "It's alright kid. Nothing to be sorry about. You want to talk about it?" Thomas shakes his head, not trusting himself to speak. The Sheriff sighs, "You need to talk about it with somebody."

Thomas looks down, "I have a few people I can talk to."

"Is it whoever you have been texting like mad since I gave you your phone?" Trust his dad to be the one he got his deductive reasoning from. Thomas nods. The Sheriff gives a small smile, "That's good, were they... uh were they there, with you."

The look on the older man's face is relieved, Thomas nods, "Yeah, we helped each other get out. I really miss them, they were the only family I had for a while. The only one I can remember at least."

The Sheriff looks away this time, "Do you not remember a lot?"

"Not before I met them." Thomas takes a breath, "Where I was, they... altered my memories. I don't know much of what happened before I met the other boys, I know some of it, flashes. For the most part though, my memories don't even go back a year. And none of those are particularly pleasant."

The Sheriff pulls him in close and runs a hand through his hair, it's soothing. "I know it must have been really bad, the way you screamed... it was terrible. I'd never heard anything like it before and it scared me. I won't even begin to think I know at all what you went through, but your friends do. They might be able to help." They sit like that for a while, silent and holding on to each other. Eventually Thomas is sitting by himself on the bed. He reaches for his phone and sends Minho a text.

Sent: 3:25am  
Do you get nightmares?

The reply is quick, Thomas would have thought Minho would be sleeping.

Received: 3:27am  
Try running, it helps.

So that's what he does, he digs through the clothes his dad bought him till he finds something comfortable and a good pair of shoes. The outfit is strangely reminiscent of what he wore in the Glade, he feels comforted by it, by the familiarity. He leaves a note for his dad on his bedroom door and heads out into the early morning. He runs aimlessly at first, a slow jog until he sees a sign marking the Preserve. It's densely wooded with hard to follow trails and lots of hills and other obstacles... it might be just what he needs.

He runs.

He weaves through the trees, not even bothering with trails but still knowing exactly where he is, how to get out. It's much easier than running the Maze. He jumps over fallen trees, traverses numerous hills, even manages to cross a small canyon created by a little stream no wider than four feet across. He runs and runs until the light starts to show over the trees and he heads back. When he finally gets back to the house, he doesn't even feel tired, he feels alive. He hadn't realized how much he had missed running.

His dad is sitting at the table, "Have a good run?" Thomas nods and get himself a glass of water. The Sheriff smiles, "Where did you go?"

"The Preserve," Thomas take a long drink, "There was this stream a ways out, settled in a little canyon, I followed it to this big lake. It was nice."

The Sheriff's eyes widen, "That's almost seven miles into the Preserve! You don't even seem winded."

Thomas shrugs, "I used to spend most of my days running through a maze that changed every day. This was actually pretty easy."

"You should try out for the track team, or cross country. Any sports team really. It might help."

Thomas smiled, "Maybe, I think Scott is on the Lacrosse team, that might be fun."

~*~*~* TW * MR *~*~*~

Scott is rather excited when Thomas tells him he is thinking of trying out for Lacrosse. Scott spends the entire lunch period explaining the rules and how to play. Jackson even interjects a few times to give a few tips. At the end of the day, Scott practically drags him to see Coach Finstock, the Economics teacher.

Finstock looks him over a moment, "Well, we already had tryouts, but let’s see what you can do and maybe I can put you on the bench as second string." The coach nods out to the track on the far end of the field, "Run that first, I want to see your time."

Thomas looks over at it, the track is probably about a mile long circle of flat ground. "How many times around?"

Finstock splutters, "How man... just once kid. This isn't cross country."

Thomas shrugs and heads over to the track. Most of the team is watching him by now. Finstock nods at him to start and he takes off. It's probably the easiest thing he has ever run and he finishes it quickly. When he slows to a stop, the entire team is gaping at him, the coach included. Thomas gives them a look, "What?"

Scott looks at him, eyes wide in a way that again reminds him of a puppy, "Dude, you just broke the school record for the mile. Actually, I'm pretty sure you just broke the world record."

Thomas rolls his eyes, "It's not like that was hard, probably the easiest run I've ever done."

"The eas..." Apparently Finstock has trouble forming complete sentences, "Stilinski, that was amazing. I don't need to see any more. You are on the team, and the track team and probably any other team you want to join. I've never seen anyone run like that before. Where did you train?"

Thomas stills, "No place you ever want to go, trust me."

~*~*~* TW * MR *~*~*~

After that, Thomas settled into a schedule. More often than not, he would wake up from a nightmare early in the morning. They weren't as bad as the first one, he would wake up in a cold sweat or trying to breath but he was just happy he didn't wake up screaming again. He didn't think his dad could take it. After that, he would go running. He averaged about ten miles a day, never quite needing to go as far as he had the first day. He ran a different path each day and by the time a month had passed, he had most of the Preserve memorized. It helped that it didn't change on a daily basis. By the time he finished, he had time to shower and eat before heading to school.

School was pretty boring. He spent the days texting Newt or Minho and acing all his assignments, much to the chagrin of teachers who kept telling him to pay attention. Newt and Minho had similar problems to an extent. When they were busy, he would even talk to some of the others who had escaped. On one particularly boring day when no one else answered, he even messaged Gally. Their debate had probably been more educational than any of his classes that day.

Thomas always looked forward to lunch though. Sitting with Scott, he learned all sorts of movies and TV shows that he apparently just HAD to watch. Scott may have gone a little over board when he learned his new best friend had never watched a TV show or movie before. So he spent his lunch time learning pop culture references and laughing with his new friends.

After school was Lacrosse practice. After he got the hang of the rules, he had gotten pretty good. Coach was even considering putting him on first line for their next game. The team even stopped staring at him after the first two weeks.

The end of practice usually led to him hanging out with Scott or one of the others in their group. Erica had taken to calling him Batman, and after some lengthy research on the subject he had started calling her Catwoman. She absolutely loved it.

Then he would head home and make dinner for his dad. Something much healthier than all that greasy fast food the man seemed to love. Thomas couldn't stand it, it tasted good but never settled quite right in his stomach. So Thomas started making the weekly shopping trips with his dad and had even started planning out a small garden to grow vegetables. He kind of really missed fresh vegetables.

The rest of his time was spent on homework or research of some kind. Sometimes it was watching shows Scott or Isaac recommended, sometimes it was more in depth research on werewolves. He kind of wished he could talk to Scott about this stuff, figure out what was actually real or not. Unfortunately, Scott didn't know he knew.

It was also fun to visit his dad at the station. The deputies were always happy to see him, especially when he brought his dad dinner because he always brought extra. He enjoyed talking with Deputy Parrish. The young deputy was easy to talk to, and sometimes it seemed like he almost understood

It figured that once he started getting settled, something would come along to mess it up.

~*~*~* TW * MR *~*~*~

Thomas had woken up a little earlier than normal for his morning run so he decided he would make his way back to the lake he had seen on his first run. He had almost reached it when a sound off to his side caused him to freeze. The sound happened again and just as Thomas took off at a sprint, something crashed through the trees behind him. Thomas went straight to full speed, giving a quick glance over his shoulder to see what was following him. It looked like a man, but the face was deformed and covered in fur, eyes glowing and fangs protruding from the snarling mouth. It took Thomas only a moment to recognize that it was a werewolf, a feral one by the looks of it. His exploration of the preserve proved to be in his favor, he easily avoided the werewolf but its enhanced speed and senses meant he couldn't quite loose it. Thomas knew from a few comments Isaac let slip that the old burnt out house in the woods belonged to Derek. He'd never met the older man but had heard enough to know he visited the house often and was a werewolf, probably the leader of the group. So Thomas led the feral werewolf in a winding path straight to the old house and was rewarded by the sound of a snarl before something slammed into the werewolf chasing him. Thomas slid to a stop and watched the fight. The newcomer was clearly winning, and Thomas could see enough to determine it was most likely Derek. Not wanting to interfere in werewolf business, Thomas headed back home.

Apparently Derek had other plans.

When Thomas got up to his room, Derek was waiting for him. Derek seemed surprised by his non-reaction to the presence of a strange man in his room. Thomas simply grabbed a change of clothes and a towel before heading to the bathroom. Ten minutes later and Thomas was freshly showered and Derek was still in his room. Thomas rolled his eyes, "If you are going to say something, you should probably say it before I have to get to school."

Derek stayed quiet almost a minute longer before finally speaking, "You don't seem too worried about what just happened."

Thomas couldn't help but roll his eyes again, "I just saw you tear another werewolf apart so you are either here to kill me or to tell me not to tell anyone what I saw. And since I’m the Sheriff's son and friends with most of the other werewolves in this town I'm betting it's the second one."

The responding growl really wasn't all that surprising, "How do you know about us? What is it you are planning?"

"Look, Derek..." Thomas sighed, "You really aren't that intimidating, so please just stop with the growling routine. Any ways, I'm not planning anything. You guys are just really obvious about the whole werewolf thing."

Derek seemed to sense the truth in his answer because the older man just shrugged, "Normally we get by because people are always told that werewolves aren't real."

Thomas laughed, "Yeah, I'm not very big on believing something just because someone tells me it's true. I've had way to many times were it ended up all being lies."

Derek nods, "I want you at our next meeting." Then the older man jumped out the open window and was gone.

Thomas sighed, this was going to be an interesting day at school. Instead of focusing on that though, Thomas went along with his daily routine, eating breakfast and getting dropped off at school by his dad. Apparently being missing for most of your life kind of made it difficult to get things like a driver’s license. As soon as he got out of the cruiser, he was prepared for a barrage of questions, he couldn't imagine that Derek would keep the news of him knowing quiet for very long. 

He was proven right when Scott came barreling down the front steps of the school. "Dude, you know!?!" Thomas nodded and Scott's eyes widened, "For how long?"

By now the rest of the group had followed down the stairs at a more normal pace. Thomas shrugged, "Since like two days after I met all of you. It would have been sooner but I had no idea what werewolves were before I started researching stuff."

Scott gaped at him openly, "Not even Lydia figured it out that fast!" Thomas noted that the aforementioned redhead looked quite pissed that he had figured it out faster than her.

He shrugged, "Well Lydia doesn't have the training I do."

Lydia gave a falsely sweet smile, "Why don't you share some of that training?"

Thomas' face went blank, his eyes dark and narrow as he stared her down, "No way on this shucking earth will I ever do that. You don't want to know the things I've been through. I don't care what kind of supernatural klunk you have dealt with, I am not doing that to anyone ever again."

Lydia looked scared as she backed up a step and nodded, "Whoa, I get it."

With a sad laugh Thomas shook his head, "You really, really don't. Just do me a favor and don't ask again." Lydia nodded and the group stood in silence till the bell rang, leaving each of them to head off in their own directions. Scott bumped his shoulder supportively and Thomas smiled, they may not understand, but they helped.

~*~*~* TW * MR *~*~*~

Thomas looked down at the text Scott had sent, confirming the apartment number before knocking on the door. The big metal door slid open to reveal Isaac, who smiled brightly and directed him inside. The loft was sparsely furnished, Spartan almost. Thomas rather liked it. The rest of the... pack, were already there, taking up the only seating in the loft, an oversized couch which still barely fit them all. Allison and Erica had resorted to sitting on their boyfriends laps. They tried to scoot and make room for him, but Thomas just rolled his eyes and sat on the floor, looking as comfortable as if he had sat on his dad's plush couch.

Peter was the one who broke the silence, “So this is Stiles… to be honest I was expecting some lanky kid who talked a mile a minute and tripped over his own feet. But this is… much more interesting.” Peter’s smile was hiding something that Thomas most definitely didn’t like.

Scott shrugged at Thomas as if to say ‘it’s Peter, what are you going to do?’ 

Thomas just smiled at the older man and spoke with a strong unwavering voice, “You don’t scare me. I can see how everyone in this room is wary of you, and probably for good reason. But I’ve seen things and met people that are worse than anything you could imagine. I’ve watched friends die and others turn on me. I’ve faced down monsters a thousand times worse than you and put myself in front of them willingly. I killed to get out of that place. So do yourself a favor, don’t try to figure me out and definitely don’t make me your enemy.” Thomas smiled at Peter who looked shocked but after a moment composed himself and nodded.

The loft was silent, the lack of sound almost crushing in the aftermath of Thomas’ speech. Erica stared at him with wide eyes, “You weren’t lying about any of that.”

Thomas’ brows furrowed slightly in confusion, “What makes you say that?”

Derek cleared his throat, “We can hear your heart beat. It didn’t change at all.”

“You never talk about it,” Scott was studying Thomas closely, “If all of that is true I can see why.”

Thomas looked down at his lap, he probably shouldn’t have said as much as he did. “I believe we are all here to discuss something other than what happened to me while I was missing.”

Derek picked up the thread of the conversation easily, “Yes, he figured out you are all werewolves. Can someone tell me how the hell that happened?”

Most of them shrugged, but Thomas just smiled, “You obviously got yourself a couple of Greenies in your pack. They weren’t careful. I saw their eyes flash a few times, they overhear things that a human couldn’t and use their enhanced strength a bit too much. They also tend to openly discuss things when they think no one else is around and even though they never came right out and said it, it wasn’t too hard to figure out.”

Derek scowled, “You need to watch yourselves. If Stiles hadn’t been your friend this could have ended very differently.” The pack looked properly chastised, even Allison seemed embarrassed. Lydia was a different story.

She harrumphed loudly, “I don’t believe it. He said he didn’t even know what werewolves were until he looked it up. No one can live in this day and age and not know what werewolves are, not with those annoying tween Twihards running around. He’s obviously lying and knew before he even got here. That’s why he made friends with us.”

Erica sneered, “You just don’t want to accept someone is smarter than you. Face it, he’s going to beat you out for Valedictorian. You better start preparing your Salutatorian speech.”

Thomas held out his hands in a placating gesture, “Whoa, I didn’t ask to be put in this grade level to beat anyone out for anything. I just wanted to actually experience going to school, that’s it.”

If it wasn’t Lydia, the way her mouth was hanging open in shock would have been unattractive. “So you mean my mom wasn’t lying when she said the new kid she gave a placement test to could probably graduate college without ever having been to school?”

“That was your mom?” Thomas thought back to the woman, she did kind of look like an older Lydia. “I just asked her to place me based on age, not on my score.”

Isaac looked shocked, “You’ve never been to school before?!?”

Thomas gave a shrug, “Not really. There was a lot of learning and testing involved with where I was, but it wasn’t school and it’s defiantly somewhere I don’t want to talk about so I would appreciate if you didn’t ask.”

“If we don’t know anything about you,” Derek studied him a moment, “How can we trust you.”

Thomas looked him straight in the eye, “I don’t care if you trust me, I don’t trust you. Any of you actually. To be honest I don’t even trust my dad. There are two people in this world I trust and I don’t expect that number to grow anytime soon.”

Everyone seemed a bit stunned by the reaction. Scott leaned forward and brushed a hand over Thomas’ arm in a comforting gesture, “You’ve been through a lot. I think we can understand that. So those two people you were talking about, is that who you are always texting?” Thomas nodded. “Think we could ever meet them?” And yeah, Thomas kind of loved Scott, because while the questions still came, Scott helped deflect them and Thomas couldn’t ask for a better friend.

~*~*~* TW * MR *~*~*~

Thomas sighed as he waited outside his dad’s office, he really wanted to talk to him but the Sheriff was out at a call that might take longer than expected. Deputy Parrish noticed the teen’s mood, “What’s wrong Thomas?”

The sound of his name had his head shooting up, “How did…”

Parrish shrugged, “Your dad needs someone to talk to. It seems like you could too.”

Thomas sighed, “Yeah, it’s just… My friends keep pressuring me, asking what happened to me. They say they want to trust me because I know a secret of theirs, but I can’t tell them Jordan.”

“Is it the werewolf thing?” 

Thomas smiled, “I knew I wasn’t the only one that figured it out. They are kind of obvious aren’t they?”

Parrish laughed, “Yeah. But don’t let them guilt you like that. Based off what you just said, they didn’t tell you. They didn’t afford you that trust so why should you give it to them. I know it’s not the same, but I went through a lot in the Army, some of which I will never talk about to anyone. Whatever you went through, it was terrible and you probably should talk to somebody about it. But that’s for you to decide. You choose who you tell or don’t. I know you have friends who were there with you, talk to them. See if you can get your dad to let you visit them or have them stay here. If you need any help convincing him, send him my way. I doubt you will though. Your dad loves you and will do anything if it might help. You know he knows you still get nightmares.”

For a moment, Thomas wasn’t sure what to say. Parrish had just told him that everything he had needed to hear. “Thank you… just thank you.” Maybe Parrish was right. It was time to see Newt and Minho again.

~*~*~* TW * MR *~*~*~

He was at Lacrosse practice when the voice rang out over the field, “Thomas!” The voice was so familiar that Thomas didn’t even need to turn to see Newt and Minho at the edge of the field.

Ignoring the questioning glances from the rest of the team, Thomas ran over to his friends and brought them into a hug, “I can’t believe you shanks made it! I wasn’t expecting you guys till tomorrow.”

Newt shrugged, “We heard from your dad you have a game tomorrow morning, we wanted to get here in time to see it.”

Thomas laughed, “I am so glad to see you guys.” Thomas looked over his shoulder to see Scott, Jackson, and Isaac watching him warily. Erica, Boyd, Lydia and Allison were probably somewhere in the stands doing the same. “I have some people I want you guys to meet.” Thomas waved over the pack.

Minho smiled, “These are the werewolves right?”

Jackson growled, “You told them about us?”

Thomas shrugged, “To be fair, it was before you guys knew that I knew. And I tell these guys everything.”

The Lacrosse captain huffed, “You weren’t supposed to tell anyone.”

Newt laughed, “Thomas kind of does things his own way.” Thomas shrugged a bit guiltily at the admission.

Scott cleared his throat, “Why do they keep calling you Thomas?”

He hadn’t thought of how to address that. Minho saved him the trouble, “That’s right, you go by your birth name here, or well the nickname. Good that. Your real name, I have no idea what your parents were thinking. That piece of klunk is unpronounceable.” Minho took in the group, which now included Erica, Allison, Boyd and Lydia. “I’m Minho, and this is Newt. We’re friends of Thomas, or I guess Stiles.”

Newt smiled, “You are lucky to have this guy, he got us through a lot. He takes good care of his friends.”

Thomas couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face, “When did you get sappy on me Newt?”

The other boy shrugged, “Strange things happen when you aren’t looking over your shoulder for Grievers or Cranks all the time.”

Erica shrugged, “Yeah, I have no idea what they are saying and still don’t get why they keep calling Stiles Thomas.”

Thomas sighed, “It’s my name.”

Scott looked shocked, “You mean the name you never tell anyone because it’s so horrible? Thomas isn’t bad. What’s wrong with Thomas?”

“It’s not my real name, or well not my birth name.” Thomas ran a hand through his hair. “So the name on my birth certificate, that one like legitimately qualifies as child abuse. Thomas was my name… well it was what they called me when I was missing.”

The air was thick with tension, no one quite sure what to say next. Newt turned to his friend, “I have to ask though, why Stiles?”

Thomas laughed, “Apparently it was a three year olds interpretation of Stilinski. My mom thought it was cute and started calling me that. When I found my dad, he told me that. It seemed fitting. I don’t remember her but it’s something she gave me.”

Allison tilted her head, a habit she had obviously picked up from Scott, “You don’t remember her?”

Thomas shook his head, “They messed with our heads, altered our memories. I can’t remember much till about a year ago. I always found it strange that it didn’t seem to effect things I would learn.”

Minho nodded, “I know what you mean, I can show up half my teachers but I didn’t know I had a sister till I found my family again.”

Newt shrugged, “I think that was probably intentional, otherwise, what was the point of shoving information down our throat before they sent us in to the Glade?” Newt had a point, and it made Thomas wonder if there was maybe even more to this than they thought. If these people could take their brains and play with them, why hadn’t they done anything more than kidnap a bunch of kids and give them impossible tasks. Sometimes, Thomas couldn’t help but think that things weren’t as over as they seemed.

~*~*~* TW * MR *~*~*~

This was one time when Thomas certainly didn’t like being right.

Someone from WICKED must have escaped before the Gladers took them down. They must have watched and waited until just the right moment to act. No sooner had Newt and Minho shown up then WICKED decided it was time to ruin a high school Lacrosse game. Because they apparently knew about werewolves too.

Which is why Thomas was currently trying to keep the werewolves from mauling everyone while under the influence of some pretty strange wolfsbane and simultaneously trying to convince Coach Finstock that the people with suddenly hairier faces and pointier teeth were not werewolves and most definitely weren’t Scott McCall, Isaac Lahey and Jackson Whittmore. To be honest, Thomas might not be trying his hardest to be convincing on that last one. But he still had to protect them, because even though he had no real evidence, he was certain that WICKED was behind this.

After everything had calmed down, the Pack was splayed out across the floor and furniture of the McCall house. Melissa was currently in the kitchen trying to explain things to John. Scott was the only werewolf up and about, pacing nervously across the floor, occasionally stepping over a wayward arm or leg. “I don’t get it, we haven’t had any problems with hunters recently. We haven’t even had any supernatural problems either, aside from that omega a few days ago.”

Thomas exchanged a quick look with Newt and Minho, “I don’t think these guys were hunters. From what I know about most hunters, they wouldn’t risk werewolves being found out. I don’t even think these guys were after you.”

Erica scowled, “What is that supposed to mean?”

Newt spoke with a sigh, “It means that it isn’t a coincidence this happened the day Min and I showed up. They are after us.”

The way Scott’s eyes widened was almost comical, “Why would they be after you.”

Thomas took a deep breath, “Because we escaped from them and left their operation in ruins on our way out.”

~*~*~* TW * MR *~*~*~

When the pack was finally all there, Thomas started. He looked to Jordan for a moment, he had insisted the deputy be there since it was always nice to have an extra law enforcement officer on your side. Parrish gave him a soft smile and nodded slightly in encouragement.

After one more deep breath, Thomas spoke. “The first thing I can remember, really remember, is waking up in a box. Things before that are fuzzy, flashes and shadows of things I’m not sure are even real. But the box was real. It was the first real thing in my life.”

Thomas laughed, “After that was the Maze.” The teen just shook his head, unsure what to say about that terrifying place that haunted his nightmares.

Minho placed a comforting hand on his friends’ shoulder, “It was the only way out and we ran it every day from the time the sun came up until it went down.”

“So that’s why you are so good at running.”

Thomas looked over at Scott and chuckled humorlessly, “Yeah well you try running for your life every day, see how good you get at running.”

“It wasn’t all running though,” Newt spoke softly. “So many things went wrong and we lost so many people, good people, and then we got out. But in the end it was all another lie. The world was whole and our friends weren’t dying but that somehow made it worse, because some of them did die. Some of them were brutally murdered, for no reason other than a group of scientists wanted to study the human brain.”

The pack was silent, they didn’t know what to say. How could you comfort someone who went through something like that? In all honesty, they weren’t even sure how their friend had survived.

Thomas sighed, rubbing a hand over his face, “When we got out, really got out, we found a whole bunch of files. One for each of us. There were so many files, and too many had the word deceased stamped across it in red. But we read them, every single one and we realized that these people, these scientist that were slowly destroying us, just wanted to see what would happen.”

Deputy Parrish took the opportunity to speak, “But they are gone. People like that, they wouldn’t let you go. I know enough of criminals that they wouldn’t risk you guys walking around alive. So if they are gone, what do you have to worry about? What about any of this is relevant to what happened tonight?

The Alpha growled, “That’s what I would like to know.”

Thomas met Derek’s red eyes, “We blew up their headquarters, left it nothing but dust and ash. But some of them got away, because what happened tonight had their fingerprints all over it. And I don’t know how to protect you from them.”


	2. Chapter 2

After the attack, Thomas wasn't sure what to do. It felt like when he was back in the maze, terrified and confused. But everyone was looking to him, asking what to do. And Thomas didn't know. He had just begun to accept that this was real, that he was really out and he didn't have to watch anymore friends die in his arms. But things were all wrong, his friends were going to die because of him, again.

A voice broke through Thomas' thoughts, bringing him out of the agitated state he had worked himself into. "Tommy, it's alright Tommy. Just breath slowly, give yourself some room to think." Thomas hadn't even realized he was almost hyperventilating until Newt had said something.

Thomas took in a slow breath, "Sorry, I just..."

Newt nodded, "I get it. Minho is keeping the others distracted, I got you outside soon as I saw the panic attack trying to set in." Thomas cringed and looked away from his friend but Newt grabbed his chin and moved Thomas head so the two boys were looking each other in the eyes, "There is no need to feel shamed, I get my fair share of those and don't you think for a bloody moment it makes me think less of you."

It was quiet as Thomas smiled in thanks and leaned back to settle on the wall, the crisp northern California air felt refreshing and so real. "You know I think about it sometimes, when they told us you were a Crank and you wanted me to kill you. I have nightmares that I did it."

Newt placed a hand over his friend's, "But you didn't. And I never had the Flare."

"Did any of them? It worries me sometimes, what if none of the men and women I killed were infected, what if there was no infection? Did I kill innocent people Newt?" Thomas' voice shook on the older boy's name.

Newt shook his head furiously, "No Tommy, no. Even if those Cranks weren't real, they were part of WICKED, they are the reason we have nightmares, why Chuck and Alby and Teresa are dead. They killed our friends, they weren't innocent."

Thomas let out a shaky laugh, "I'm not either. How can I save my friends, my dad, you... when I can't trust myself."

"Because I trust you." Newt's voice was strong and unwavering, "Because Minho and your dad and every single one of your friends in there trusts you. At this point, I think even Gally trusts you."

The mention of the other glader had Thomas' head shooting up, "That's it Newt! Gally, the Gladers, that's how we do this. We were always stronger together, and we know how WICKED works. If we can get a few more Gladers here, then I have a plan that could work."

Newt smiled, this was the Tommy he remembered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's so short but it kind of came to me and I wanted to give you guys a little something to read for Christmas. Also I'm fairly certain this is going to end up Newt/Thomas.


	3. Chapter 3

Thomas hated waiting, he could be doing something to fix this situation but all he was doing was waiting. They all were. It wasn't like they could expect all the Gladers to drop their new lives. They had family and school and a few even had jobs now. Thomas was glad they were coming, even if it wasn't all of them, he really was but he wanted them to arrive faster. So far only Frypan had arrived and Thomas wasn't surprised that the boy had immediately stared cooking. He was however, surprised at how much he missed Frypan's food. The way Minho and Newt were scarfing down their bowls of stew pointed to the fact that he wasn't the only one. Frypan had been quite happy to discover Thomas' garden and had made his favorite dish from the Glade, they were even all eating outside to try and keep that kind of atmosphere.

His thoughts were interrupted when a shadow fell across him. Thomas looked up to see Scott and smiled, motioning for the other boy to join him. Scott wrinkled his nose a moment, as if he didn't particularly want to sit in the damp grass but he did anyways. Scott cleared his throat, "You seem more genuine around them." 

Thomas shrugged, "I feel like myself around them, like I don't have to pretend to be some happy kid who lives to play Lacrosse. I don't get labeled as that kid that went missing for years. I feel like I can go on long runs and be confused by the fact that people get paid to make reality tv shows and not have people judge me for it."

"You know we won't," Scott bumped his shoulder against Thomas'. "We don't care about that stuff."

Sighing, Thomas replied, "Yeah, but it's different." Thomas wasn't sure how to understand it to someone who hadn't been there. Instead he just let the conversation trail off and he occupied himself with watching Newt talk excitedly with Allison and Isaac about something or other. Scott followed his gaze and wondered briefly if there was more there than he could see.

The festivities were soon interrupted when a loud voice called out, "Long time no see Greenie."

Everyone turned to see a newcomer approaching the group. Thomas laughed, "Gally, you shank, nice of you to show up."

The boy, Gally, huffed, "Well it seems you guys started things without me, is that Frypan's stew?"

In no time at all, Gally had his own food and had been introduced to the pack. Things were quieting down when Gally finally asked, "So what is it you want everyone here for?"

Thomas ran a hand through his hair, "Something happened, a few days ago at a Lacrosse game. We think WICKED was behind it."

Gally looked around at the members of the pack, "You told these slintheads about WICKED, about the maze?"

"I had to," Thomas argued, "I almost got a few of them killed, the least I could do is tell them why."

Newt growled, "That wasn't your fault Tommy. WICKED could have come after any of us at any time. Apparently they've been watching us so they must know about our families and they could have gone after them but they didn't. They made the mistake of going after you and they underestimated all of us. So stop thinking it was your fault and let's get on with figuring out how to get rid of them."

Thomas nodded, "Sorry Newt." After a moment, he turned to Gally, "Have you been in touch with any of the others? I called those I could and asked them to spread the word but I don't know how many will come."

With a sigh Gally answered, "Brenda is coming as soon as she can and a two or three of the boys are doing their best to get here. The rest can't make it. A few said their parents won't even let them out of their sights. We might not have backup on this one."

Derek cleared his throat, "We won't need any."

Gally raised an eyebrow, "You think you can hold your own against WICKED? A lot of good people died because of them and I don't see how your rag tag bunch is going to be much help."

Erica growled, "Well I guess it's a good thing it's not that easy to kill a werewolf." Her eyes flashed for a brief second defiantly.

The raised eyebrow turned to Thomas, "Seriously Thomas, werewolves? Can't you even just try to have a normal life?" 

Thomas just shrugged in reply and watched as Gally took the opportunity to ask questions and gather a basic knowledge of the werewolves strengths. The Gladers listened raptly as Derek told them about a werewolves heightened senses, their strength and the pull of the moon. They even managed to get out a few sentences about their weakness to wolfs bane and mountain ash.

Then the conversation turned to the attack, about how Thomas had felt someone watching them almost like the feeling of being in the Glade and knowing there were beetle blades all around you. Minho mentioned that the substance released from the bleachers, which was most likely a wolfs bane hybrid, came from a canister he had seen plans for in the files at WICKED. They talked well into the night, moving indoors when it got dark. After hours of talking, and trying to keep their planning from Thomas' dad when he came in from a late shift, they finally had a plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I know, terrible place for me to end it. I originally had a bit longer chapter planned but my computer deleted it so I wrote the first half of it again and wanted you guys to have it because you have been waiting so patiently.

**Author's Note:**

> Help me out guys, I'm a bit stuck and can't figure out what happens next.
> 
> Also, tell me what pairings you think I should do.


End file.
